Archive

I’ve never been very big on New Year’s Eve celebrations–that’s not to say that there haven’t been ones that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. My 2010 New Year’s Eve was quiet, reflective, and very low key. I spent the evening with a friend that I’ve known casually for a while–someone who until recently, I would have considered merely a friendly acquaintance. Recently, however, we’ve become close, and I have come to value our friendship. I call this friend, “Smiley.”

To provide a bit of backstory, 2010 has been a mixed bag for this Creative Beast, with some decent highs, and others that were… perhaps neither good nor bad. There were times that felt pretty bad, in all honesty, and they did set me back. Yet in hindsight, the simple knowledge that I was able to make it through these trials–some of which I wasn’t sure how I would get through–has led me to a better place. I surprised myself in more than one instance with my resourcefulness, my tenacity and my will–and when I managed to accomplish certain things on both a personal and a professional level simultaneously–I felt pretty good… albeit tired. My point in mentioning this, is not so much to toot my own horn, but to simply say that waves do come. Sometimes they can take us up, and other times, they can crush us. The best we can do is to prepare if possible, and then paddle like hell. Those who are able to maintain higher ground may consider themselves “fortunate,” or “blessed,” or whatever they want to call it. As for fishermen and Creative Beasts… ’tis a seafaring life–which sometimes resembles a monster, and other times, something extraordinarily glorious… which brings us back to the reasons that we do the things we do.

Smiley and I reconnected a couple of months ago by pure chance, at a hotel, of all places. I was coming out of a networking meeting, and he was working on a story in the lounge. I didn’t expect it, but we ended up chatting for a while. He was keen to bounce thoughts off of another writer, and I was pleasantly refreshed after an hour of interesting-but-standard shop talk. The script aside, he seemed to have a lot of fires going, which intrigued me. Everybody likes hot burners, and particularly during cold weather. Looking back, I think what was most compelling about Smiley, was the fire in his eyes. As we talked, we agreed that perhaps there would be an opportunity to collaborate on some ideas.

Time went on, and the more ground we covered, the more we realized our stories were rather aligned. We had each had our share of waves, both friendly and fierce. We agreed that it was good to have dreams and vision. All of these things brought us closer together, and at the same time, kept us somewhat reticent in ways. Still, I was inspired by our conversations.

New Year’s Eve, though quiet, reflective and low key, was also pensive, heavy and occasionally dark. And I was feeling funky to begin with. Somehow, roads were taken that led us off the gleeful, celebratory path–not that we were really on it in the first place. From setbacks to friends who had committed suicide, and from dislikes to disorders, we covered just about every cheery subject we could think of. By midnight, we were totally out of steam and in no mood for noisemakers or confetti; let alone, champagne. If ever there was a non-roll, we were on it. Smiley went on to say how much he couldn’t wait to move back east. I had very little left to say, except that if that was what he wanted, then he ought to make it so. Mostly, I was just tired, and thinking about having to go in to work the next day. We finished our nightcaps in what was ironically, yet another downtown hotel lounge. We parted ways with half smiles and a short good-bye, each of us somewhat apologetic about our moods.

So at this point, you might be wondering the reason for this post. Ha. The post is about waves, and how they keep coming. This can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it. A wave is going to take you somewhere, and that place can, indeed, be good… even great.

When I got home I was emotionally spent. One of the things I’ve never liked about the occasion–the anticlimax–had hit me in the face. “To hell with New Year’s Eve,” I thought.

In the morning, when I got up to take a shower, I looked up at the reflection of my Hokusai poster in the bathroom mirror. Yes, the image has become ubiquitous. So what? It’s powerful. Suddenly, it hit me, and suddenly, I was inspired again. “Fight harder. Ride the wave. Come back better.” That’s what it’s about. Pretty simple.

Smiley, my friend… this post is for you, and I’m glad we’re friends. Keep at it, and keep smiling. One way or another, we’ll get there.

Hello, Creative Beasts. How are you? It has been a busy summer here at the T_Haus. “Crazy-busy,” one might say. I’m sure you know what I mean. That aside, “We,” here, at Creative Beasts have been working on some exciting, new and wonderful things.

“What things, T_Haus?” You say?

Interviews, my dears. I said they would be coming. You were warned.

Recently, I had the distinct privilege to speak with the fair Adrienne Pierluissi; painter, singer-songwriter, entrepreneur, mother, wife, gardener–and the list goes on. She is intensely passionate and focused in nearly everything she does, and it shows. Occasionally, you will even find her tending bar at either Palm Tavern or The Sugar Maple (establishments she owns with her husband and partner, Bruno Johnson–well known for their incredible selections of Belgian and American craft beers; not to mention fine scotches, bourbons and many more) located in beautiful Bayview, Wisconsin. But rather than me telling you about her, here she is, in our conversation–without further ado.

We’ll be talking more with Adrienne in the future. Look for her band, Assex (cool, smoky, jibaro-style jazz–with a bit of old-school punk mixed in), to be playing Saturday, August 21st at 9:p.m. at the Sugar Maple. She will be singing. I’m confident you will be moved. They are outstanding, and the space–like the music–is intimate. Normally, at this point in the post, there would be a sample of the music–and we’re working on that. For now, you’ll just have to trust me that it’s a show you won’t want to miss.

Finally, as you know, it wouldn’t be CreativeBeasts.com without a song. Adrienne, since we don’t have one of yours yet, this one’s for you. Here’s Nina Simone with Feeling Good. And I hope you are!

Hey there, Creative Beasts–happy holidays! Can you believe 2010 is almost here? I don’t know about you, but for me it seemed like 2009 blazed by like a comet… or at least like a wild horse. Which brings me to why I chose this image. There’s an old saying: “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” Try this on for size: Do what you gotta, but get that horse. Me? I’m going after ‘im, and I’m gonna catch ‘im. And then I’m gonna ride. Where we will go is yet to be determined, but I can say one thing… it will be an adventure.

I’ve been invited to stay in Italy this coming spring. I’m not sure yet if I can make it happen. I need to come up with the ticket… and the time. I want to go. A lot. That reminds me of another saying: “When there’s a will, there’s a way.” Can I will myself there? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

So. This post, I’m asking all you CBs out there… What do you want out of 2010?

Personally, I’ve had it with resolutions. New Year’s resolutions are sooo 2009. 2010 is all about The Manifest-Wish-List. It’s about how we will turn our dreams into reality. Really, that’s the whole reason I started CreativeBeasts.com. I want the best and the most for creative folks everywhere and from all walks of life–the only caveat is that the creativity–has to be good. What does that mean? Humor me briefly: You don’t have to follow a special religion–but faith is important. Whether it’s a belief in something greater, or a belief in yourself, it is imperative. Creativity should serve a meaningful purpose. That could mean a lot of things; true. And since the general goal is to embrace and to expand the circle rather than to exclude or alienate, I’ll simply add this: Whether you write software apps or novels, whether you make films or medicine, whether you sing, run, play the drums or play basketball, sculpt, paint, act or teach–your creativity radiates from you. It takes on different colors, shapes, hues and tones. It moves people to act, it evokes, transforms, energizes and inspires. How will yours manifest?

Here are just a few things on my Manifest-Wish-List:

1. Make CreativeBeasts.com into a show that is for Creative Beasts, about Creative Beasts and the creative process.

2. Go to Italy.

3. Better organization.

4. Hit the morel Mother lode.

So. Got any ideas? Got a list?

Please share.

Here’s Spiritualized with Soul On Fire (Great band. See them live if you get the chance):

When I was a teenager, my father once punished me by taking my stereo away because I wasn’t meeting certain academic expectations. I think it was by far, the worst punishment I received. I could be grounded or anything else, but to be without music was like being without light… or water. Thank God for music. I don’t mean to sound trite or to make an inane remark, but I think it’s worth noting what an effect and impact music has on the creativity of others. Now that we have passed another Labor Day, so marks the unofficial end of summer, and with fall comes different flavors and smells, somber colors, different pastimes, and a different spin on creativity. And while even the music we listen to might change somewhat with the seasons, our need for the inspiration and comfort it lends, does not. From Jackson Pollock to Paul Thomas Anderson, Creative Beasts of all kinds have been and will continue to be driven and influenced by the power of music.

I would also like to once again note the cyclical nature of creativity, and in turn; pause for a moment to consider how Creative Beasts need and affect one another. Art in any form and at any level is something that stimulates us and inspires us–an idea–a spark–a birth… created by an individual. It seems that many artists and/or scientists are multi-talented and explore their creativity in multiple facets; for example, a singer-songwriter who also paints, such as John Mellencamp, or a scientist who draws and paints, like Leonardo Da Vinci–or is it the other way around? You get my point. Creative minds are excited by ideas, by freshness, by wonderment and discovery, and by the ability to bring something that encompasses these things to fruition–and to experience the creations of others. That said, it makes sense that many creative types have multiple areas of focus, and multiple passions in their lives. Music makes order out of chaos–even chaotic music. It combines sound and rhythm with thought and puts it in a frame to create a structure. I know that music has a tremendous impact on me and my creativity. I can’t imagine my life without it.

Jackson Pollock was heralded as the leader of the Abstract Expressionist movement in art and pioneered what became known as “action painting.” It’s a well known fact that his art was largely influence by the modern jazz music of his day, which seems to make perfect sense when you view his work; especially in person. He was particularly a big fan of Charlie Parker’s and Dizzie Gillespie’s, but in general, loved rocking–and painting to bebop. Listen to this gorgeous piece titled Autumn in New York by The Bird, himself; Mr. Charlie Parker. Perhaps it had a hand in the outcome of Pollock’s piece shown above.

Additionally, and throughout the history of cinema, great directors are naturally influenced by music, and are keenly aware of just how intrinsically it becomes part of the art which is film. A few of my favorites include Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch, and last but definitely not least, Paul Thomas Anderson, who states that he indeed, “writes to music.” He freely admits that the screenplay for Magnolia could be called “an adaptation of Aimee Mann songs.” The film is among my favorites, dark as it may be; and is absolutely brilliantly crafted–and so, might I add–is the music. The following quote from Anderson is taken from the introduction of the shooting script for Magnolia.

The connection of writing “from the gut” and “writing to music” cannot be found any clearer than in the “Wise Up” section of the screenplay. I had reached the end of Earl’s monologue and was searching for a little vibe–I wrote as I listened–and the most natural course of action was that everyone should sing– sing how they feel. In the most good old-fashioned Hollywood Musical Way, each character, and the writer, began singing how they felt. This is one of those things that just happens, and I was either too stupid or not scared enough to hit “delete” once done. Next thing you know, you’re filming it. And I’m Really Happy That It Happened.

Here, Scorsese takes a very different approach by using the cheery 60s sound of The Crystals, followed by Scottish artist, Donovan’s trippy Atlantis, and juxtaposes the music with a disturbingly violent portrayal of Tommy, played by Joe Pesci [WARNING: This scene contains adult language and graphic violence]:

The music has to marry with the picture and enhance it. You can’t just lob something in and think it’s going to work, even if it’s one of your all-time favorite songs. That piece of music may have nothing to do with the scene. When it marries, you can feel it. The thing jumps; a “whole is greater than the sum of the parts” kind of thing can happen.

Here is a shining example of how David Lynch “marries” music with cinema:

So. How does music affect you? And your creativity? What are your influences? Where do you get turned on to new music? Do you have a theme song (And yes, I stole that notion from a scene from the cheesy old show, Ally McBeal, in which Dr. Tracy Clark demands that Ally choose a theme song for herself. What can I say? It stuck with me, and I must give credit where it is due)? My theme song changes, but I think for now, it is Passion Pit‘s Moth’s Wings (is it just me, or does Michael Angelakos remind you of Peter Gabriel?), which I first heard on 88.9 Radio Milwaukee. I can’t think of a better song to lead us into fall.

Faith. You can’t hold it in your hands, but it can fill your soul. You don’t know where it comes from, but it sure can take you places.

You may have heard the saying, “Leap and the net shall appear,” once or twice, or maybe a hundred times. It has taken me a while to learn what this means, and for that matter, I’m still learning, but I’m getting closer. Some people learn at an early age, and I wonder if it’s because they don’t know that “leaping” is supposed to be scary. This lack of fear can have its pluses and minuses, but no matter how you slice it, it all boils down to one thing: faith. And it isn’t leaping part of the way. It’s not about standing close to the edge of the cliff, and jumping to edge; it’s about jumping. off. the. cliff. This is what it means to be a Creative Beast. Creativity is faith.

Now; before I go further, I am, of course, speaking figuratively, and in no way am I suggesting to readers that they ought to find the nearest cliff or bridge to leap from, and yes; I am writing this disclaimer so that no one comes after me threatening to sue. That said, figuratively “jumping off the cliff,” means going for your dream–all the way–with everything you can muster, and without looking back. This is not an easy thing to do, even if you are fearless, but if you are willing to make the leap, I suspect that you will begin a journey on which you will discover things that will amaze you, and make you a richer human being. There will be stops along the way. Sometimes the car breaks down, and you find yourself walking a ways. Remember to stay aware, because there is value in the stops, too, and if you’re too busy grumbling about the car breaking down, you might miss something. Pay attention, keep your eye on the prize–and most of all, keep going. Here’s a tune for the road… or sea:

Creative moments are fleeting. They come in glimpses like fireflies on a warm summer’s night. They are beautiful, magical and fragile. When you hold them too closely, the light goes out, and the magic is gone.

Fireflies.

I think creative types sometimes spend so much time searching for the shiniest bauble that they fail to see the ones that roll right up to their toes. Many artists are addicted to extremes… to the edges of things, because indeed; these are the places to which others seldom venture, and therefore they abound with splendid secrets and answers to questions most dare not even ask–or so it would seem. However. Extreme existences can be extremely exhausting, going from agony to ecstasy to agony, and very little in between. Furthermore, it may very well be a waste of creative energy.

By paying closer attention to the subtleties and nuances of daily life, it may be possible to experience an even greater level of awareness and overall personal fulfillment. It requires patience, discipline, focus, openness and concentration. These are things I’m working on wrapping my head around in order to achieve a greater sense of passion and fulfillment.

Recently, I parted ways with a job that as it turned out, wasn’t a great fit for either party. I was looking for a role that offered more creativity as a copywriter, and eventually it became like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. And this square peg is here to say that when you keep trying to wear down your own edges to fit into a particular mold, not only is it counter productive; it’s downright painful. The lesson here for Creative Beasts is A) try to avoid these situations whenever possible, and B) if people aren’t buying your brand of honey, find somebody else who gets and appreciates its value. Artists get paid when they meet/find their market. That is appreciation, and from that comes gratification.

While the initial parting of ways was a bit sad for me at first, I soon realized that it may have been the best thing that could have happened. Now I have the chance to leap headlong into new creative endeavors, and see where they lead… writing, painting and filmmaking projects await. Passions are reborn.

Aside from that, I have since discovered a new passion which is morel hunting. For those who are unfamiliar, morels are exquisite mushrooms that grow only in the wild, and only in the spring for a period of 2-3 weeks. They look a bit like a piece of coral on a stalk, and they are perfectly delicious and altogether magical. They grow in the woods when everything is just coming back to life. Perhaps one of the greatest pleasures of seeking out this magnificent edible is the chance to witness nature in all its splendorous glory. Then there is finding the morels, which, incidentally, has turned out to be a wonderful metaphor for my current place in my creative path. Sometimes you look and look and you find little or nothing. Then, you cross a road or a stream, and there they are. You may not see them at first. They are elusive and well-camouflaged. But as you squat down, and look hard and close to the ground, suddenly, they start to appear right in front of you. And it is amazing.

Morel magic.

If concepts like synchronicity, syncrodestiny and pursuit of passion ring true with you, I recommend checking out the following books/authors: